Category: Imaginary Conversation

An imaginary conversation about unpleasant conversations

Sometimes talking to people just fucking sucks.

Well. I am glad we had this little talk. Thanks for sharing.

Oh, not you. Of course. I love talking to you, mostly.

Mostly?

Can we get back to ME now?

Why yes, my Queen.

It’s funny you should call me that…

Oh lord. Here she goes.

Yeah yeah. So I was over in SE for some pho earlier and

You drove all the way to 82nd?

No, a friend did. Anyway. After lunch we

Where did you go?

HA&VL. It was really good. It isn’t really relevant to the story though.

Sorry.

You are not.

No, not  really.

So after lunch, we went over to Fubonn to poke around the market.

That’s always fun.

I love Asian markets. So we wandered around and in the section with all of the altars, I almost bought one.

An altar?

Yeah.

Why?

They were shiny.

Ah.

My friend said I could put a picture of myself in one and put the altar to myself in my entry to freak people out. Or, you know get them to worship me. Whatever.

Uhhhhh.

No, I didn’t get one.

Are you sure?

Yes. I mean, I know I don’t have a religion myself but I do try not to mock anyone else’s. Or start my own.

That is a relief. I really wouldn’t want to have that conversation with you. Speaking of which, why do you think talking to people sucks?

What?

When you called you started on a rant about why talking to people sucks.

I did?

Yep.

You shouldn’t have interrupted me.

Why not?

Because now I don’t remember why.

Happy to have been able to help.

Rant killer.

An imaginary conversation about having a cat on my foot

The cat is sleeping on my foot again. Make him quit. 

He weighs about 15 pounds. I’m pretty sure you can get him off your foot all by yourself. 

He’s snoring. I can’t read when he snores. 

It isn’t that loud. 

It’s like thunder. 

You can barely hear it. 

Quiet thunder. 

Put him on the floor and he’ll go sleep in his bed. 

He’ll give me a dirty look and squeak at me. 

Oh, the horror. 

Why does my life have to be so hard?

I’m surprised you haven’t signed up for Death With Dignity. 

It’s because I am a brave little soldier, even though I have a cramp in my foot. Ow, Kitty. Get off!

He squeaked at you, didn’t he?

Yes. I couldn’t help it. I had a cramp. I had to move my leg. 

Did he get down?

No, he’s waiting for me to tuck my feet back up on the couch again. 

A cat of great patience. 

He’s annoying as fuck. 

He loves you. 

He doesn’t either. He just loves the afghan I have on my lap. 

His $200 hand knitted merino wool cat rug?

It was supposed to be mine. It was awfully pretty when I made it. 

Yes it was. 

Stupid cat. 

An imaginary conversation about first kisses

My number one favorite thing to do is kissing.

You mean sexually?

No, all around.

Huh. Yeah, I guess I would rank it pretty high myself.

You have to have priorities.

That is why I negotiated it into a date.

What? Isn’t kissing traditional in dating anyway?

No, no. I mean yes. This is a first date though. Usually the kissing doesn’t come until the end. If at all. That’s silly.

Silly? Why? Then you have something to look forward to.

And I do love a good tease.

Tell me more about that…

No.

Just a little?

Maybe later.

So. Kissing.

Right.

How does one go about negotiating a kiss?

Well, I said I would buy drinks. He said if things went well, he’d buy me dinner.

Isn’t that a risky move?

It seemed a little demotivational to me. I mean, I am incentivizing date failure. It would benefit him financially to dislike me.

Good point. Are you going to renegotiate the deal?

I don’t think I will have to. I added a kissing clause.

What does it cover?

It is essentially a guarantee.

How do you guarantee a kiss?

Well you can’t really. There are too many completely subjective elements. I mean, you can really like someone’s pictures and the way they should on the phone, right?

Right.

But until you get pretty close to them, you don’t really know if you’ll feel that spark.

Also right.

And even then, until you kiss…

You just don’t know until it happens or doesn’t.

Right. Whatever “it” is. That is why I put in the clause. We kiss before we go into the bar. A serious kiss.

Bold. You kiss someone you have never met?

Yes.

And what if it’s a disaster?

Then all bets are off. No drinks. No dinner. No nothing. Even if only one of us is dissatisfied.

Interesting. And if the kiss is amazing?

Then we proceed with drinks, and then probably to dinner. I figure we already know we have things to talk about. If the kissing goes well, that pretty much is a lock for making it through to dinner. Unless he fakes it.

That’s either total genius or the most asinine thing I have ever heard.

Right?

Where are you meeting?

You can’t be there.

Oh, c’mon!

No way. I do not need a heckler.

More of a protector and admirer.

Admirer? Not really.

Protector and friend.

Two very good things. And still no.

Be careful.

It’s just a kiss.

No such thing.

Also true. It’ll be a new experience.

Just what you need.

New experiences are good for me.
I hope it goes well. I haven’t been to Paley’s for a long time.

Fancy!

More importantly, if we make it to dinner that means the kissing passed the test. And there could theoretically be even more of it.

Like on a second date?

Stranger things have happened. It’d be a new record.

Let me know when you get home.

Thanks for worrying about me!

Any time.